Page 104 of The Unwilling Bride
Alan shook his head. “There was no cedar box, my lady.”
Despite her dismay, Constance’s mind worked swiftly, seeking an explanation. “Perhaps one of the servants moved it when they were cleaning the solar before Merrick came home. I’ll ask Demelza—”
“Was the box carved with a pattern of leaves and vines?” Merrick asked
“Yes!” Constance exclaimed, relieved. “You’ve seen it?”
“Ruan has such a box. I noticed it in his house when I was talking to him about the mill repairs.”
The earl tapped his foot impatiently. “Who is this Ruan?”
“The bailiff, my lord,” Merrick replied. He swiftly scanned the courtyard. “He’s not here.”
He gestured for Ranulf to come closer. “Take ten men and go to Ruan’s house,” he said to his friend. “In the lower room there’s a shelf near the hearth. At the back of it, you’ll find a carved cedar box. Inside it there may be a sealed document. Bring them both to me—and Ruan, too.”
“I’ll go with him,” Constance offered. “I know exactly what it looks like.”
“We’ll all go,” the earl declared. “I’d like to get this matter settled as quickly as possible.”
Thus it was that the villagers of Tregellas saw the lord of Tregellas and his wife hurrying through the village with another, obviously noble man at their side. Lady Beatrice, the steward and some soldiers were also in theparty heading for the bailiff’s house at the end of the green. Those shopping in the market or manning their stalls immediately abandoned what they were doing to follow, each asking the other if they knew what was happening.
When they reached Ruan’s large house, Merrick rapped sharply on the bossed door. “Ruan!”
He listened a moment, then drew back and shoved the door open with his broad shoulder. As the crowd’s curious muttering grew, Merrick marched into the house and dragged out a struggling, protesting Ruan by the collar of his tunic.
“Ranulf, see if you can find that box,” Merrick said as he ran a scornful gaze over the terrified bailiff.
Ranulf disappeared inside the house. “What were you hiding under the floor, Ruan?” Merrick demanded.
“N-nothing, my lord—only the money I’ve earned.”
“Why were you trying to go out the back when your lord was calling for you?”
“B-because I heard the mob and didn’t know—”
“Why they were coming here. Did you fear your dishonesty had finally been discovered?”
“I’ve earned everything you’ll find in my house!” Ruan protested. “Every ha’penny.”
“We’ll see.”
Quaking with fear, Ruan asked piteously, “What are you…what are you going to do?”
Merrick fixed his cold, implacable gaze on the bailiff. “That will depend on what we find in your house.”
At those words, spoken in such a tone, Ruan started to struggle more fiercely. “No! No! It’s not fair!”
He might have been a doll for all the difference his agitated motions made to the man holding him by the collar. When Ruan realized his efforts were futile, he went limp.
“Do you think it was easy being bailiff here, with your cursed father for a master?” he pleaded, sobbing. “Do you think I enjoyed having to enforce his orders and then listen to the tenants complain? To have mud and worse thrown at me? To be scorned and reviled?” His self-pity shifted to rage. “And for what? A few miserly coins and the back of his hand when he was in one of his rages!”
He pointed a shaking finger at Constance. “Ask her how it was!”
“Yes, I was here and know how it was,” she replied, sad to see any man, even Ruan, reduced to such a state. “But if you found the position so odious, you were free to go.”
“Did you also earn the right to steal the late lord’s will?” Merrick asked with slow, stern deliberation.
“I took no will!” Ruan protested. “Why would I want that?”
